Mental Chaos
by Betsy Crandall
Summary: A romantic comedy about whoever can fit into it... It's cheesy! But now, UPDATED! W00t!
1. Leaving the Palace

**Mental Chaos**

By Winged Archer Hermia

**AN: **So you're probably wondering—what in seven hells* is this about? It's set after The Immortals (it _could _be after Lady Knight or something, just that Kel's not in it at all). Um…. It's a cheesy, romantic humor thing with weird twists… Can't say much beyond that, so read on my friends!

_*Forgive my language_

**Chapter 1…Leaving the Palace**

Alanna of Trebond sighed. What was he doing? She stood in the hall of the castle, waiting impatiently. Numair had spent all day in the bathroom. And what about their journey? It was scheduled for today.

He stumbled out, his hair pulled back. His teeth gleamed. He looked handsome in his silk shirt and shining brown pants.

"Why all this? No need to dress fancy," he joked, glancing at her plain breeches and white shirt. 

"Oh, come now, Numair… It's not a _party_," she retorted. "It's just a ride to Fief Ratha." Now she joked. Smiling, she pointed an accusing finger at him. "_You're _just dressing up because of that Helena girl, I've seen the way you look at her."

"No. I remain faithful to Daine," he said, and his face was straight. "But we'd better be going now. It'll take a full day of riding to get there. Oh, I wish those Rathas wouldn't keep accusing us of all this tyranny and warfare…" his voice trailed off. 

"All right, I'll inform the Wildmage we're leaving." She walked off. 

Numair's face fell. He knew something was wrong; he looked at her and she was too young, too innocent, only seventeen. And here he was, already in his early thirties, an old man. She would need someone new… he sighed a little.

Meanwhile, Alanna walked to Daine and Numair's chambers and knocked swiftly on the door.

"It's open," called a young voice.

Alanna entered the large room. She saw Veralidaine Sarrasri perched on a chair, her nose close to a palace squirrel's. "He's telling me all sorts of things, Lioness," she said without looking up. "The chestnuts are hidden in his family's tree, it's amazing, but those birds keep taking it—oh," she remarked, blushing. "I guess I got a little caught up in talking…"

"It's fine," said Alanna with a small reassuring smile. "I just came to tell you—Numair and I are leaving now."

A look of sorrow passed over Daine's face. "All right," she said quietly. "Tell him I say goodbye. And, Lioness—" she added as Alanna moved to leave—"there's one more thing. Has he been acting… strange lately?"

"No," said Alanna hastily. She hated lying, but there was little she could do.

"All right," Daine agreed. "I'll see you, Lioness. Goodbye."

"'Bye!" Alanna called back to her.

_Oh…what should I do??? _Alanna wondered. It was so confusing. She couldn't help but wonder what was wrong with the black-robe mage. _It's just a temporary thing. It'll go away—I hope. It has to. For Daine's sake._

**AN: **I'm so sorry it was short, I just really needed to stop writing about the palace. That's not really the point of this story. Encourage me! I'll write more if you do!!!! (Now I sound like a little kid whining. Oh well.) Review! Please! My goal for reviews is 5 right now. Optimistic, but whatever.

-Hermia


	2. Something About You

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Mental Chaos

By Winged Archer Hermia

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AN: Yay! Thank you to those who reviewed, sorry about my screw-up (for those of you who don't know, all 3 of my reviewers have informed me that Numair is 31 when Daine is 17. I'm a little too lazy to correct it right now but I will soon). Thanks guys! And here we have….

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Chapter 2…Something About You

The horses were grumpy. They kept snorting and stomping angrily, and the Lioness had no clue why. They kicked, bit, and struggled when Alanna tried to fasten harnesses on them; stranger still was that one of them was her own Darkmoon, faithful but aging.   
"You shouldn't be so lively," she scolded him. "You're too old."

"As I am getting, waiting for you?" came a voice, and she spun to face Numair. "This has taken at least an hour, Lioness," he said, slightly amused. "You could have called for help."

Alanna thought about the situation. Here she was, stuck in a stable, horse muck dirtying her boots, straw in her hair, and her hands restraining a half-saddled horse. She could see why she should have asked him to come.

"I guess—I'm just—too—stubborn," she said, her voice strained. She was attempting to right the horse's saddle, but Darkmoon landed a sharp stomp on her boot.

"OW!" she yelped, and hopped on one foot. "Numair, why are they _acting_ like this?" She turned to look at him. He was laughing, his shirt still clean, his hair slick. She felt a pang somewhere in her chest. _What is that? _she thought irritably. _NO, _she told herself sharply. _I'm _married. _Maybe I'm just sick…_

"Here." Numair lifted the reins out of her hand and righted the bit, which had been at an awkward angle in the horses mouth. "He's done; now I'll tack up Spots. You get this one out of here." Alanna nodded, unable to speak.

As she walked, Alanna sighed to herself. She hadn't been feeling sick. She knew this feeling well enough. She'd experienced it twice before, after all; with Jon and with George. Liam had been a fluke. She'd liked him well enough, but it hadn't been _love. _Now that she thought of it, George was starting to feel like a friend more than a lover. She dragged Darkmoon along slowly, and shook her head.

***

"Oh, Kit," Daine said woefully. The dragon had scared away a bird perched on her windowsill, and was sulking on the bed. Her scales were a dull gray. "It's all right. He just hasn't got to know you yet." Kitten hid her face in the pillows and whistled.

"That's what I feel like doing, too," she remarked softly. Then louder she said, "But don't stop there. I'm sure he'll like you. Try to talk to him."

Daine sent out with her mind. She reached the sparrow that had been frightened, named Tailwing, and asked it to come back. It tried to say no, but she firmly reminded him that it was a young dragon, and wouldn't hurt him.

Kitten stood up to the window and offered a small grape to the bird, which fluttered nervously around her head. 

Daine smiled a little, then remembered... She had seen it in Numair, something odd. He wasn't drained of his magic; she would know. And he didn't just get sick—he would tell her. Something weird was going on: something in his eye that made her suddenly shy. And it wasn't love, because she would burst if she held any more. Something between him and Alanna was happening, and she didn't like it. Not one bit.

***

Numair came to join her, Spots saddled, and now he too had horse droppings on him. She smiled at that, and she was about to mount Darkmoon, but he interrupted. 

"Wait."

"Yes?" Alanna asked. "It's almost noon, you know. We'll have to camp now for sure. The places around Ratha just aren't safe."

"Alanna. Why don't we go for a walk in the garden for a moment?" he asked, and his expression was unreadable. "We can tie up the horses."

"All right," she said suspiciously, and wrapped Darkmoon's reins around a stake. "But make it quick."

Walking among the roses, Alanna felt dizzy. The scent was overpowering and each statue she saw seemed more beautiful than the last—though she had walked in the Royal Gardens many times before. 

Numair stopped her when they saw a fountain. An angel cast water from her wings. They sat on a bench, and he grabbed her hands.

"Look, Alanna," he said. "I needed to talk to you, because… it's that…

"What?" she heard herself say sharply.

"Well…There's something about you. And I think… I think I love you."

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AN: Yay! Longest chapter ever. Hoped you like it—please help me reach my goal of 5 reviews because you love me soooooo much (just kidding). No, but really, it brightens my day to get a review, be it good or bad. Preferably good, of course.


	3. Who Else?

**Mental Chaos**

By Winged Archer Hermia

**AN: **Well, great. I achieved my review-goal. And yet I don't feel happy: four of them were corrections and one was almost a flame. Oh well. Writing isn't always rewarded; especially with me… I just write for fun, because my stories would never get any recognition. I have yet to be on a "Favorite Author" list that I know of. J

**Chapter 3…**

Alanna spun to face Numair. "_What?" she said, her heart pounding. "What do you—"she found herself staring at the face of a monkey. The mage laughed heartily and pulled the mask off, and she could see it was tied on with a string._

"That's… funny," she said quietly, and tried to laugh a little. But she didn't feel happy; she felt odd, like she had been stabbed through the heart. She backed away from him, paused for a moment, then just said, "Oh."

She had seen the court books, and laughed at their stupidity much, but never understood why the ladies were so fickle. And picky. _The men, too, she thought grimly, and then, suddenly she felt brave. She smacked Numair hard on his right cheek._

"Alanna?" he said, obviously confused, clutching the spot where she had hit him. "I said it was a… joke."

She couldn't hear him anymore. What she could hear was a thick pounding in her ears. Without another word, she ran out of the gardens. Now the flowers didn't smell so sweet. Now they made her sick.

She found Darkmoon and quickly slung her foot over his back. She rode quietly, spreading out until she got to a nearby village called Sterthin. Hoping for a little privacy, she decided to eat some lunch at a little tavern, and get some oats for her horse. She tied him up again on a stake, and walked into the place called Griffon's Glade.

            An uproar met her. A barmaid came to serve her fresh ale before she had even got to sit, and all the guests stood up to squint at her. "Please, stop a minute," she said, but it was no good. They couldn't hear her.

            She settled down at last, and cursed herself for being stupid. Did she really think she could get away from fame? Of course not. Not for the first time in her life, she wished she was just a common-born girl from this village. And then she remembered—_I wouldn't get to be a knight! And I'd probably have a set-up marriage. She smiled grimly. There were pros and cons to everything._

            She ordered a sandwich, aware that the entire tavern stared at her and took note of what she ordered, how she ate it, how fast she drank her ale. Eventually she had had enough. She quickly stuffed the rest of her meal in her carry-bag and paid the man at the counter for it.

            On the way to the palace, she thought over her situation. It had only been for a few seconds, a few moments of odd fluttering that she thought she was in love with her old friend. And now, thankfully, it had vanished, leaving her with nothing for anyone but her own husband George. _Yes, she thought blissfully. I miss him. Maybe I'll abandon this whole Fief Ratha thing. Daine can go with Numair. They'll be happy. _

***

"Ugh," Numair complained to the healer at the infirmary. "Don't touch my cheek. It _hurts."_

            He had decided to get healed: his face hurt like hell. And of course, he was too soft to bear it. Mages seemed to always end up that way. Physical things put him in too much pain. Daine stood by him, in a chair, and she held his hand while he moaned.

            The healer smiled at him, and retrieved an ointment. 

"Been brawling, Master Numair?" Daine joked.

            "Of course," the mage remarked dryly. "That's what I do, you know, I'm the master of physical stre-OW!" The ointment had begun to sting. 

_Those warrior maids, he thought, glancing at the Wildmage. __Too stubborn, too strong to mess around with.__ Daine—I was wrong about her. Young, yes. But still—he couldn't think of a word to describe her, and instead glanced at the girl._

She smiled. "Numair, you're such a baby," she whispered.

"Of course I am," Numair replied softly, grinning back. "Would you want me otherwise?"

Daine pretended to ponder. "Hmm…no. What was it that hit you, anyway?"

"Alanna." He grimaced. "There's no practical joking with her, you know."

But it hadn't been a prank… it had been a cover-up. He knew this, of course, but now, not risking to be slapped a second time, also knew that he wasn't in love with her. Not anymore.

The healer wiped his hands and helped Numair up. "There y'are, Master Numair, sir," he said. "Be nice to young Daine there."  
            Daine smiled at him: she often helped with the hurt dogs and horses of his patients.

"Hmm… I don't know… she seems to be mean enough to me…" A playful shove from Daine made him bid the healer farewell.   
            "Now, I'm going to get some rest, Daine."

"What about Fief Ratha?" she inquired. "I thought—"

"I'll worry about it in the morning."

After they had parted, he opened the door with a key and also a touch of magic; his rooms were private. As he walked to his bed, he saw a note in the front entrance that had been slipped under the door.

_Take Daine to Ratha with you—she can handle it._

_-Alanna_

He sat on his bed and sighed. Before he knew it he was asleep.

**AN: This chapter was weird. It only took me like five minutes to write. Ah well. Pleeeeeeeease review and I will (sort of) love you forever!!! Even if it's a flame!!! (not really)**

Take care,

-Hermia


	4. A Way Out

**Mental Chaos**

By Betsy Crandall

**AN: Okay. I have a few apologies.     
  
**

Firstly, I am _so sorry that I stopped writing this fic! I guess I had a lot of writer's block and then gave up. To tell you the truth, I don't know why I continue with this silly plot. …But I've started again, really! Second, I was so self-pitying when I wrote those other chapters, and I really am going to shut up about reviews. Forgive me? If you do, then please read on._

**Chapter Four… The Way Out**

Alanna paced her room at Pirate's Swoop with a swirl of emotions dancing in her head. 

 "Stop it, dammit, stop it!" she muttered, pounding on her aching head. Something was wrong. Very wrong. 

"Talking to yourself again, my dear?" George said, walking into the room. And then, more seriously:  "Something wrong?"

 "Oh," said Alanna. She noticed that she was still in love with George, after all. Everything was there, all the signs.  "No. Headache."

"All right, I'll leave you be."

Alanna continued to think about that weird… what was it? _Incident_, she supposed. But she knew she was going to have to talk to Numair again. She wondered idly if he had told Daine. Most likely not. She lay down…

***

Knock, knock.

"Numair…NUMAIR!"

Pound, pound! Pound!  

The mage felt as if his head was being shaken, but he refused to get up.

"Ug…. Mnodnoww," he grumbled angrily. "Nod geddeen ubbb."

"What was that, dear?" asked Daine, her eyebrows raised; though of course he couldn't see this very well, as he was still half asleep and there was a door between them.

"Hmm," she added as an afterthought. "What would get you up?"

Silently, she called one of the palace birds, Sharptail, in to unlock the door for her. Then she remembered: it was magically sealed. Despite this, an idea sparked in her head.

Sharptail, she sent out, find the rest of your flock, please. Could you bring them into this room?

"Numy, this is your last chance," she called as the sparrow flew out the window," so get up!"

He just made a sleepy uuhhnn noise.

She smirked: now she'd get to play her trick. "Perfect."

A split-second later, he heard the sharp whirring of many wings. They came closer and closer, until… 

"AH!!! _Daine!" What seemed like tens of thousands of birds had perched on him, pecking incessantly. He took off the door lock instantly.  _

 "What the hell?" Numair cried as Daine stood there laughing half to death. "What have you done now?!"

Daine sauntered into the room, still chortling. "Just having a little fun, dear," she said teasingly, tweaking his nose. "You know you've trouble when the greatest mage in Tortall won't leave his bed."

"I've had a bad night, Daine, could you just leave me be?" Numair growled. 

She frowned. "Is that how it is… I'm just a child, always annoying you?" Daine, confused and hurt, left the room with the slamming of a door.

"Oh Gods… what have I done?"

His question remained unanswered as he lay there in the morning sun.

***

Alanna knew she was lost.

She looked around, but all she saw were walls. Locking in, they came nearer to her. And then, out of nowhere, a hand appeared. It was a strong hand, flowing with magic. She took it, and it led her out of the maze. When she was out, she heard a voice. "You're safe now." It was Numair. He was so gentle…

Alanna awoke with a start. It was the mid-night, and George was asleep next to her. Silently, she rose and donned a robe. On the balcony, she thought about her dream. Numair… what did he mean? She didn't know, still. A friend? Definitely. Something more? …no, she realized at last. The fire was gone inside her. But what had it all meant?

"Goddess guide me," she whispered.  
  


Fine, so it was short. Please don't sue me!!! I try my hardest but inspiration comes slowly with this fic. Flames are welcome, because they give me a chance to:  
a) Delete them

or

b) get revenge. 

J See you next chapter!


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